


Dates & Cities TBA

by genee



Series: Dates & Cities TBA [1]
Category: Bandom, Popslash
Genre: Dr. K., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-30
Updated: 2007-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Justin says, "Dude, seriously, you're the tour shrink? The fuck? They better be payin' you a fuckin' fortune. I can't believe Lance let you do this."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Dates & Cities TBA

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetrychik](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=poetrychik).



Chris has been on the bus for ten minutes the first time Justin calls, cackling in his goddamn ear. When he stops laughing he says, "If you missed touring so much, you could have come out with me, fucker."

Chris chucks his bag into an empty bunk and nods at the dude in the kitchen. Buzz cut, black tee, more ink than skin. Chris saw ten guys who looked just like him on his way through the parking lot. "Not enough money in the world, but tell your mom hi for me, okay?"

"That shit's not funny anymore," Justin says, still laughing, and then, "Dude, seriously, you're the tour shrink? The fuck? They better be payin' you a fuckin' fortune. I can't believe Lance let you do this."

"It's not like that, asshole," except for how it pretty much is, but Chris keeps that part to himself. Lance had actually been dead set against the idea, they were talking about it still, Chris hadn't decided anything, but then Lance ran into Patrick in New York and the next thing Chris knew Lance was laying down vocals in some studio, calling Chris and saying, "What? It's nothing! He just needed a bass!"

Chris told himself he wasn't jealous, and he wasn't. If Patrick could get Lance into the studio again, well, that was just a bonus. Lance caught a flight home a few days later and Chris spread him out on their bed and fucked him hard, one hand on the back of Lance's neck and Lance's arms stretched wide, pink flush of his skin and the feel of his voice, and Chris had come inside him, wondered if he'd ever get enough. In the morning Lance kissed him until he couldn't breathe anymore, dragged him into the kitchen and started the coffee, leaned his elbows on the counter and wiggled his ass and Chris had dropped to knees and licked him open again, fucked him slow and sweet. They'd talked about the tour over breakfast, what it would mean, how Chris could negotiate, what he wouldn't do, what he couldn't do without.

None of this was any of Justin's business, though, which worked out fine, actually, because Justin's moved on already, talking about something else all together. Chris just rolls his eyes, nods at the dudes in the kitchen, there's two of them now, and pokes his head into the back lounge.

One of the bunks was crammed full of tattoo supplies, cardboard boxes packed with small tubes of A&D, rows and rows of little plastic ink cups still in their sleeves, but there's just a couch in the lounge, a couple of chairs, a kickass TV. Normal bus stuff, Chris thinks, and then he sees the stack of his favorite notebooks in the corner, the Etch-A-Sketch on the side table, the Ultimate Aquarium dvds, and the thrill of what he's doing here pools in his belly, in the base of his spine.

Justin says, "I thought you swore 'On All That Was Holy' you'd never live on a tour bus again," and Chris can totally hear the finger quotes.

"Fuck you, Timberlake," Chris says, mostly because he can. "I swore I'd never live on a tour bus _with you_ , you diva freak."

Pete bursts through the door right then, hollering about motherfucking kiss-asses and what they got coming, some kid with a lip piercing right behind him, his hair in his face, a smile Chris can almost see. Chris grins in Justin's ear and hangs up the phone. Lance had said, _You should do the tour, I think. They really sort of need you_ , and he'd been right, of course. They really sort of did.

 

 

\-- End --


End file.
